Ice and Dean don't mix
by Nimphidelle
Summary: It's the beginning of a snowstorm and Dean decides to go for a drink. What could possibly go wrong? One-shot.


**Disclaimer: My kidnapping attempt failed so Sam and Dean still unfortunately don't belong to me. Sigh.**

Sam paced across the floor of their latest motel room, frequently stopping to look out the frost covered window.

"He should've been back by now." He muttered, dialing Dean's number again, for what felt like the hundredth time. With each unanswered call his feeling of dread grew. But this time it didn't go to voicemail.

"Dean? Dean can you hear me?"

"S...sammy?" Dean whispered, almost to quiet for Sam to hear.

"Dean? What happened? Where are you?" Sam demanded, cold fear creeping through him at the vulnerability in Dean's voice.

"S...so c...c...cold. W...want...t m...y S...s...sammy."

"Where are you Dean? Come on Dean! Answer me!" Sam said, panicking as he only heard the sounds of ragged breathing on the other end. Grabbing his laptop he turned it on and waited for what seemed like hours before the screen finally lit up. Fingersflying over the keyboard he quickly traced Dean's cell. Grabbing his coat and an extra blanket he flew out of the room, continuing to talk into his phone, hoping that Dean would answer. Hot wiring a car, he drove as quickly as he dared with the heavy snowfall. Reaching the alley where Dean's cell phone was, all Sam saw was what looked to be bushes and garbage cans buried beneath the growing layers of snow. Hanging up his phone he dialed Deans number again. Hearing the faint tune of smoke on the water, he followed it to a particularly large heap of snow.

"Dean! Dean, answer me!" He yelled as he frantically dug into the pile. About four centimeters in he uncovered part of a familiar jacket. Continuing to dig out from the jacket he found Dean, partly under a trash bin, and blue with cold.

"No no no! Dean, Dean don't do this to me!" Sam practically yelled as he searched for a pulse. He sighed in relief as he felt a weak pulse beneath his fingers. Not wasting any more time he wrapped Dean up in the blanket and ran to his hot wired car. Settling Dean in the passenger seat, he cranked up the heat and hurriedly drove back to the motel room, which thankfully had a working heater. Arriving at the motel, Sam didn't even bother turning off the car as he rushed with Dean into their room. Desperately wracking his brain for the long ago learned hypothermia treatment, he got a thermometer to check Dean's temperature. Luckily it was ninety six point five causing Sam to relax a little bit. He quickly piled all the blankets in the motel room onto Dean's bed. Stripping Dean and settling him under the mound of covers and then himself had been a little awkward, but it was for Dean, he kept reminding himself. Pulling Dean into his arms and rubbing his back to try and circulate the warmer blood, he couldn't help but shiver at the coldness of Dean's skin. He was thankful that Dean wasn't awake or he'd never hear the end of his chic flickness of the position. A few minutes later Dean began to violently shiver. Sam pulled him closer and continued to rub his back until confused green eyes met his.

"S'mmy? Why're we c'ddl'ng?"

"You some how managed to get buried under a pile of snow and get sever hypothermia. Hence the need to warm you up."

"Oh." Was all Dean's half frozen mind could answer.

"Would you like some hot chocolate Dean? To help you warm up?"

"C'ffee?"

"No caffeine."

"B'r?"

"No alcohol."

"F'ne." Dean grumbled. As Sam got up to start making the hot chocolate, Dean curled into a ball at the loss of Sam's heat. When Sam brought the hot drink over he had to help Dean drink it because his hands were shaking too badly. After gulpingdown the glass Dean's eyes started drooping, despite his best efforts. "Why're we c'ddl'ng?" he mumbled when Sam laid him back down and started rubbing his back again.

"We've been over this. You have sever hypothermia and this is the best way to warm you up." Sam explained, again.

"Okay." Dean mumbled before falling asleep and curling closer to Sam's warmth, his shivering slowly subsiding. Ten minutes later saw the two brothers sleeping peaceful.

A few hours later Sam was woken up by Dean stirring beside him.

"Why are we cuddling?" Dean demanded.

"You were stupid, got hypothermia, this warmed you up. Now sleep." Sam mumbled, still mostly asleep.

"But why are we cuddling?"

**An: Sorry if any of this information is wrong but I have only basic knowledge of hypothermia. For anyone who's wondering, memory loss and confusion are symptoms of sever hypothermia hence Dean's repeated questions.**


End file.
